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    Unseen
    Unseen
    Unseen
    Ebook43 pages33 minutes

    Unseen

    By Christopher Waston

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In a deadly world of secrets, life in service to a shadow agency means no connections, no ties, and – ultimately – not trusting anyone. In order to safeguard humanity, one must commit atrocities others cannot fathom. One must sacrifice self, but keep from becoming a complete monster. In such a world, Kurt Ramsey holds the only job with a life expectancy shorter than an investigative re

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChristopher Waston
    Release dateFeb 11, 2014
    ISBN9781625380067
    Unseen

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      Book preview

      Unseen - Christopher Waston

      COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

      UNSEEN

      Copyright © 2013 by Christopher Watson

      Unseen cover art copyright © Arthur Ramsey / Dreamstime.com

      Potographer: Micah D Leigh Photography.

      Model: Wes Ykema.

      Book and cover design copyright © 2013 Elsewhere Publishing

      Published 2013 by Elsewhere Publishing

      Smashwords Edition

      This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

      First Printing, 2013

      Electronic Version, 2

      ISBN: 978-1-62538-006-7 (Electronic)

      ISBN: 978-1-62538-007-4 (Print)

      Elsewhere Publishing

      http://elsewherepublishing.com

      PO Box 145121

      Coral Gables, FL 33114

      Thank you for reading.

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      Table of Contents

      About the Author

      Copyright Information

      Dedicated to:

      friends and family

      mentors and minions

      Kay McGarvey

      ???? HRS

      I STRUGGLE to remain still and assess my surroundings. Though I’m laying, the world ungulates and spins without a discernable pattern. The area smells of barbeque, mustard, and roses. The side of my face is pressed against the moist ground, and the dampness has soaked through my shirt. Something heavy is on my back, and I taste grass. My arms are behind my back; chilly bracelets—handcuffs—hold them there.

      The weight on my back, a knee, shifts. It rocks me, but without my equilibrium settled, everything feels like it is being flung from a building. The move awakens a deep throb just above my right temple, sending flashes of light across my closed eyes.

      Easy, buddy.

      I must have groaned.

      You’ve got quite the knot. The voice, female with a Canadian accent, comes from above and behind. What can you tell me about her? The weight on my back shifts again.

      The world moves more than it should, but less than before. Please run me. I spit grass, and a bit of dirt on my lip falls between my cheek and gum. I sputter to get it, and a reluctant blade, out of my mouth.

      I would, but you don’t have a wallet.

      Equilibrium returning, I open my eyes, and pain from my temple makes the right clamp shut. Half of my vision through the left is a horizon of grass. With only one eye, I don’t have depth perception, but I see a woman in a yellow sundress laid out like I am. The neckline is bright red with fresh blood. How about my name and social?

      Sure. Hold on. The knob of her knee rolls away from my spine, giving some relief but

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